Supernatural: Cabin in the Swamps
by Rabidus Lex
Summary: Dean had only one purpose to attend the Ball, but before the night would be over that reason would take second place to a need more primal; survival. Now Dean must make it through the swamps of Louisiana together with a small band of others. However, more than the creatures that stalk them the secrets that surround them can be more deadly to them all. It is still the same story BoD
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The man ran around the little station wagon stuffing boxes inside wherever he could. He then left the station wagon and rushed towards the door; hardly stopping even to close it as he ran up the stairs. Taking the steps two at a time, he reached the top floor and then barged into the nearest room startling its inhabitants.

"Damn it, John" said the older woman as the little girl shrieked in fright.

"What the hell are you two doing?" he demanded staring down at his wife who was on her hands and knees.

"I am looking for Claire's teddy bear"

"What? Are you crazy? We need to leave now."

"She needs her teddy bear"

"Well we 'need' to leave, unless you are ok about getting burnt alive if they catch up with us."

"Damn it John" his wife said as she rose up and pulled the terrified girl close to her. "Was that really necessary?" she continued.

He opened his mouth to say something but then stopped when he saw the wide eyed expression in the young girl's face.

"Well…well, she needs to know, because" he started but again stopped "you need to hurry we're running out of time. They could be here any minute."

"Fine! Go get your son" she said still holding on to her daughter.

"Go!" she said again with more force this time as he kept staring at the girl.

He nearly jumped at her words, turned and rushed back towards the door; asking them to hurry just before he slammed it behind him.

He ran in the opposite direction towards their room. Stopping at the first door just before it and then pausing. He took a deep breath and calmed himself before reaching for the doorknob. Opening the door he looked inside. His eyes scanned the room, passing along its furnishing and the piles of boxes that were scattered everywhere.

The room was empty!

He took another deep breath and tried to steady his nerves.

'It's ok, he's here somewhere.' He said to himself as he started to look around the room. But he couldn't keep the sense of fear that filled his heart as he searched every corner of the room. Unlike his daughter's room, this was filled with bright light, steaming in from the many windows that covered it. So there were not many places that anyone could lay hidden. And with every place he searched – under the cot, inside the cupboard and even under it – the dread he felt was almost unbearable.

"Boo" suddenly a voice cried out and there was a clatter behind him.

His heart nearly stopped as he turned around.

He caught his breath when he realized where the sound came from. Out of one of the boxes, filled once with toys, he saw a small bald white head and a wide smile. He's hand went to his heart as the kid started to giggle.

He gently walked over to his son and picked him up.

"Aren't you quite the tyke" he said and the boy again giggled.

He had lost quite some time packing the box full of toys again, and then slowly bringing them all down and loading them into the car. But finally everyone was ready and they could leave.

He took one last look at the place they had called home for so long and then looked out over past the house and down the dirt road that wound down over the green countryside. He looked over down to the farmhouses in the distance and the open pastures.

His felt a lump in his throat but then he remembered his family and then turned away.

He had seen no signs of them anywhere. But he could feel their presence everywhere.

He got into the car and started the engine and pressed hard on the accelerator. There were panicked screams and giggles of laughter from the back as the car roared. He ignored it, as well as the stare that he got from the other side of the car.

The small car raced down the road as fast as its small engine could, carrying the heavy load that it now bore.

The farmlands soon gave way to the swamplands; looming against the horizon dark and grey. The sun was already starting to set behind the crooked trees of the swamp. No more were there any signs of life or of civilization, except for the power lines that stretched along the road.

"John, we need to stop. The kids need a rest" she said as she turned to look back to the rear of the car. But her husband didn't respond.

She looked over to him and found his eyes shifting between the road ahead of him and the rear view mirror.

"John" she said again and he didn't respond. It was then that she noticed his hands; they were clutching the steering wheel so hard that they were whiter than usual.

"John" she said again but gentler and reached over and touched his hand.

The car swayed, scaring her and waking the kids.

She turned over to comfort Claire. Even little John was crying uncontrollably now.

Her husband managed to regain control of the car before it could crash into the power lines, and then turned towards her. She could see both fear and exhaustion in his eyes.

"John, we need to stop. You need a rest."

"We'll stop when we reach a city" he just said and turned back towards the road.

"John, there's no one behind us."

"We'll stop when I say we can stop" he said a little too loud that it got Claire crying again. He went silent as she turned around to comfort the little girl. The boy, she decided, was a lost cause by then.

"John, please!"

"When we reach the next town" he said a lot quieter this time.

"How far?"

"I don't know" he said and she turned away from him and stared down the road again.

Apart from the baby who was still crying the car went silent as it continued to race down the road.

Suddenly there was a bright flash, and the engine started to sputter. He again lost control of the car and it started to sway across the road. But this time he was unable to regain control of it and the station wagon crashed into a power line.

He woke up, feeling slightly dazed.

Thankfully the car was not going fast. But as the car hit the power line the impact caused his head to hit the steering wheel. For some reason the airbags didn't deploy at all. Then of course there was the reason as to why the car lost control at all or died. It didn't take him long to figure out that something was not right.

He almost leaped out of the car; struggling with the seatbelt before finally getting out. Then he ran around and opened the passenger side door. He undid his wife's seatbelt and then turned to the rear, pulling his son out of his car seat.

"Take him and run" he said giving the boy to his still dazed wife.

"John what's going on, what happened?" she asked

"There's no time, take him and go" he said looking over the car and back the way he had come.

"John you're scaring the kids"

"Mary, please go!"

"Claire"

"I'll get her, go" he said and his wife unwillingly complied.

"Claire" he called out to the little girl, who was still strapped to the seat. But the little girl didn't move; she just stared out the front window. He called to her again as he inched into the car, closer. The girl turned towards him slowly. He almost froze when he saw the expression on her face. There was something more than fear there.

"It's alright" he said reaching for her seatbelt. She didn't, thankfully, resist him as he undid her seatbelt.

It took him awhile to coax the frightened girl out of the car but he finally managed to; promising her that he would always be there.

The young girl trailing behind him, her small dainty hand in his, he rushed towards his wife; who had, contrary to his instructions, had stopped with the baby and was waiting for them.

He had no idea what he was doing or where he was planning on going. The only cover he could find was in the swamps ahead.

'Maybe somehow they can use it to get to some town or city.'

There was barely any light when they reached the swamp.

The sun was almost already at the edge of the horizon.

They had been walking for what seemed like forever and the little girl was already showing signs of fatigue. He knew it wouldn't be long before she couldn't go any further.

He scanned the surroundings trying to make out something that could be used as a hiding place for the kids. It was difficult work but he found something.

There were sounds behind him now; voices.

He panicked.

He took the baby, who was thankfully so tired out that he was fast asleep, and handed him over to the girl. His wife watched with confusion but she fortunately didn't protest or struggle.

This was the hardest part, but then he didn't have much choice.

"Honey you see that?" he asked Claire as he showed her a little cave of sorts that was formed by the trees and bushes. The little girl just nodded her head.

"Ok, I need you to take your little brother and hide there for awhile until mommy and daddy comes back."

"John?"

"Can you do that for daddy. Can you be a good little brave girl for just a few minutes?" she again nodded her head. But somehow he didn't believe she was being honest.

"That's my girl. Now get in there and be very quiet ok" he said as he helped the girl into the floral cave.

"John" Mary said much quieter.

He didn't want to turn back and acknowledge her right now. He realized what he was doing but they didn't have much of a choice. He had to lead the Hunters away from the kids, and they had to be the bait. Hopefully it would give the kids the chance to escape and live a normal life.

She had no idea how long it had been since her parents had left her in this place. It was damp and smelly. But her father had asked her to be brave and she would try to. Besides they would be back soon enough.

Her brother was sleeping across her lap, blissfully unaware of everything. She envied him.

After their parents had left a group of people had come. She heard their voices outside. They had stopped for awhile near where they hid but then continued on. She didn't understand what they were saying, but she could tell that they were looking for something.

However, now it had been ages since she heard anything at all and she was frightened.

'How long were her parents going to be?'

She didn't mind the darkness as much as the not knowing.

She put her brother on the moist ground and slowly crept out of their hiding place.

It was dark outside as well, but still and quiet.

She looked around her and found nothing. There was no signs of life anywhere around.

She was about to step back into her little hole when she felt something move. She turned trying to find what it was.

Then in the darkness she saw it.

It was huge, green and lying close to the ground. It walked like it was crawling; with small pudgy feet. Its eyes were huge and stared at her intensely.

It sort of snarled at her and stepped closer towards her.

She stepped back.

Slowly it neared her and the cave as she moved away.

She didn't know what it was but she was afraid. She was afraid that any moment it was going to attack her.

'Boo' she heard a familiar voice call out and she turned. Knowing even before she saw it what had happened. There was her brother, standing outside their hiding place, giggling at the monster. Then, as her little heart raced the monster turned its head towards her little brother…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

He barely registered her delicate hands wrapped around his wrists. His dark eyes rested no more than a few seconds on the path ahead of them, rarely falling on her, before drifting back over his broad shoulders to where they had just come from. He stared beyond the trees and bushes behind him; lost on an image long since passed beyond his sight.

His feet followed as they were led by the gentle pull of the girl.

Fortunately the forest did not grow thick nor the ground littered with roots and other obstacles; though unsteady and soft to their thread.

Her silver stilettos fell on the ground with great ease. Unreliable as the high heels were against the terrain, the girl ran with such grace that it almost as if they never touched the ground. While his fell with some awkwardness as if in protest. So it was that it may not come as any surprise that it was his heavy soles that lost their way first.

He had just turned his gaze towards the way ahead, at the sound of her voice calling out to him. He had registered, somewhat, in the distance a cottage against the open air. But again, his attention remained only for a few seconds before it was once more turning back towards the path behind him. Somewhere along the route his head took his mind left his feet unattended. Before he had the chance to realize his mistake he felt himself falling.

She must have realized something was wrong, or maybe she turned to see if he was ok. For as he fell, he felt his face land on her chest, as he dragged her down with him.

The ground was soft, which was fortunate.

It took him but a second to realize that he was on the ground…even less to realize that they were not alone, anymore.

Dean rose, pushing himself off of Tracy as the deep throaty rumble drifted into his ears.

They were no longer in the forest; at least they were in a small clearing.

Somewhere in some part of his brain he wondered for just a fraction of a second why he was there. The same part that questioned the sight of the girl beneath him; another part wondered but was not allowed long to linger in that wonder. Before everything became clearer and the mist that shrouded his mind wafted away; the deep throaty rumble again drifting in as if to nail the point through.

Dean turned away from Tracy and back the way they had come. But this time the focus of his gaze was more visible and clear, and he froze.

Dean couldn't believe what he was doing.

He was staring at his own reflection in the full length mirror. He struggled with the bow tie, trying to get the knot just right. But every attempt seemed to make it worse and frustration started to swell up inside of him. It felt like an entire lifetime since he last put on a bow tie; a completely different life.

"Are you not ready yet" he heard a girl's voice behind him.

"Well it's not like putting on this monkey suite…" he started as he turned around, but stopped when his eyes fell on the image before him.

"Here let me help" she said as she stepped closer to him.

Dean fought the thought that popped into his mind at the sight of her. He tried to avoid contact with her brown eyes; looking up instead towards the ceiling.

It was hard keep his mind at bay. Considering that she was standing so close that he could smell the conditioner in her long black hair. See the rich silk texture of the strands as they fell gently over the one naked shoulder; seamlessly blending with the rest of her black satin dress. He could see the subtle makeup she wore, so as to accentuate her already beautiful features.

"Do I have to wear this monkey suit?" he asked still keeping his eyes away from her.

"Only if you want to get in today?" Tracy said, redoing his tie. "We could always postpone it and take the time to actually make a proper plan?"

"We could just break in"

"With all the guests, lights and security? Good luck even getting close to the place."

"Now come on" she said, as she turned and walked out of the room.

Dean turned back to stare at the mirror again. She had actually done a really good job. He couldn't help but admire at his own reflection in the mirror. Giving himself a satisfied grin.

The black Cadillac Escalade pulled up outside the large Victorian style manor. It was illuminated with vines of colored lights falling down the sides and spotlights hidden inside each archway carved into the walls. Dean couldn't help but stare at the building, radiating white as if it was a heavenly palace.

As they passed through the high spiked walls of the building, Dean realized the truth about the second part of Tracy's statement. The vast grounds that lay beyond the high walls was covered with men in black suits, walking in rigid formations, their bodies stiff as if they were robots. There were also cars, expensive, shinny and big, packed inside the grounds; overflowing almost out of the large parking space designated for the occasion.

There was no way they could have snuck into the place without getting caught.

The Cadillac pulled up around the three tiered water fountain, with its cherubs pouring water out of Grecian urns, and eased towards the main entryway.

Dean and Tracy got down and stepped towards the short stairway that led up to the columned front porch. Dean stared at the building before turning his gaze back towards the vehicle that was now being driven away from them.

He continued to stare at it until he felt a hand squeeze through his arm. He turned down towards it and then towards the smiling face that stared back at him. The smile was not real, but he met it still. He took a deep breath and stepped over towards the doorway.

"I can't believe this is somebody's house?" Dean said as he danced with Tracy.

His eyes moved across from wall to wall, from painting to decoration to tapestry; showcasing the rich heritage of New Orleans.

His eyes then shifted towards the sea of faces that filled the large ballroom. Packed as the room was he had no trouble seeing every detail of the faces thanks to the bright lights that flooded the inside of the building itself. From the smartly dressed gentlemen in neatly pressed tuxes to the ladies in varying and expensive looking cocktail dresses and sparkling jewelry. He recognized none of the faces; he didn't even feel a hint of familiarity

"So where the hell is John?" he asked finally. But Tracy didn't respond she just stared around her. "Obviously this is not working. I think I need to use the little boy's room" he continued as she finally turned back towards him.

"Just be careful" she said letting him go.

"Always" he said with a smirk and she rolled her eyes.

The building seemed like something out of a bad dream. The corridor seemed to be littered with doors and no matter how many of them he searched there always seemed to be even more to go through.

He wasn't even sure anymore he had the right place. Of all the millions or so rooms he had gone through all he had found so far were several bedrooms, a study, a giant library, a cinema hall, a game room, a private bar and a sitting room. The place looked more like a hotel than a private residence. In fact most of the bedrooms he was in showed signs of being occupied, though none had been locked.

The place didn't seem to be the kind of place where someone like John would hangout. At least not from what Tracy had told him, which actually wasn't much. For a famous person, people knew very little about their host.

He was starting to lose hope. There was nothing anywhere that helped him even point in the right direction. He had been walking for almost an hour and he hadn't even run into a single person; not even security; which in itself was strange.

He was about to turn around and walk back to the ballroom when he came across another door. This time it didn't lead into another room, but down a stairway.

He paused, holding the door. He stared down the corridor, first in one direction and then the other, before he stepped inside.

He closed the door behind. Suddenly he was shrouded in darkness so thick that he couldn't see his own hands before his face.

Dean paused trying to get used to the darkness, but it never came. Then there was light.

It took awhile to realize that flames had erupted on either side of him. He stared at the one closest to him, caught in its hypnotic dance. Then he cautiously reached out towards it; inching towards it until his fingers seemed almost to touch the flames. They were hot but not as hot as they should have been.

"Magic" he said to himself. 'Cheap parlor tricks with carefully crafted bulbs.'

He continued carefully down the steep stairway until he reached another door far below.

However before he reached it his earpiece started to crackle and he heard Tracy's voice coming through it.

"Dean!" she kept calling out to him, but he didn't respond. He just continued towards the door. "Dean, you need to get out of there" she continued but he disregarded her calls. Instead he reached for the door and opened it.

He reached up towards his ear and pulled out the earpiece, letting it rest on his shoulder, as he stared at the room before him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dean looked around the room at the faces there. From the preacher in the corner, his eyes closed. His hands wrapped tightly around the crucifix around his neck, silently mumbling to himself. A small group had formed around him. Five people: two old women stylishly dressed in cocktail dresses and jewelry that sparkled brighter than the stars above; a young timid Latino girl in a black waistcoat and bow tie. He had noticed her before at the party, just as he remembered seeing the two old gals. Though, then he had found himself distracted at the sight of her; of her olive skin and shiny long black hair. She was pretty, just as Tracy. But she had an air of innocence around her that seemed long lost from Tracy. But now he only stopped just long enough to acknowledge her presence and the expression of fear in her face; before moving on.

He remembered the next face in the semi-circle. But he wouldn't have guessed the guy to be the religious type. He was around his age, light blonde hair and blue eyes that had never failed to stray off from the beautiful girl in his arm. He looked so confident and smug at the ball, yet now…!

He remembered all of them; all the faces in the room. They had all been there at the mansion. All of them had been with him in the ballroom, apart from the valet who was outside. He hated to call them the only survivors of the night. He hoped there would have been others to whom the night had been more fortunate. But he didn't linger too long in that thought, as flashes of memories flooded his mind.

He closed his eyes and rested his head once more against the wooden walls of the cabin. Trying to will away the images that filled his thoughts. But they refused to leave. So he allowed it to wonder back further.

"Dean!" Tracy's voice echoed in his ears.

However, he ignored it.

He was walking through the room, his eyes falling on the decorations and artifacts that occupied its space.

'What the hell was this place?' he thought just as he felt a hand on his arm.

He turned around only to come face to face with Tracy. She was staring at him. But there was something in her face he couldn't just pick up. Her eyes flickered around the room. Though, barely did they rest on anything there for long. He saw her face twist and her mouth almost fall. The tenseness that was there before lost for just a few seconds.

"Dean, we need to leave now" she said, turning back towards him. She was still holding on to his arm.

She started making back towards the door dragging him behind her. There was not much force in her gentle touch but he never resisted.

They made once more up the stairway.

Dean's focus shifted from the way up, to the door behind him below.

However, he followed her up to the upper door and back into the corridor.

"I got him and I am coming out" he heard her say.

"We need to move fast" she said as she continued to drag him down the corridor. He wasn't sure to whom she meant that.

There was nothing there in the corridor itself to tell him something was wrong. Things look exactly the way he remembered when he was walking down it before. But while the grace was still there, there was also a sense of urgency in Tracy's step.

They had just reached the stairway when the overly bright room went completely dark.

Standing in the darkness with Tracy's hand on his arm, he realized something he had completely missed before, or he must have. There didn't seem to be any windows along the walls. No light falling from the full moon outside. He suddenly remembered the arches outside with the spotlights tucked into them.

Dean looked around him but it was of no use. There was nothing he could see or make out. A thick veil of blackness fell all around them.

And then they both heard it.

A blood curdling scream echoed through the corridor.

Dean reflexively went for his gun and for his torch, underneath his coat.

Tracy went for neither as they already were held ready in her hands.

'Was she holding her gun all this time?' Dean wondered for some reason.

Tracy flashed light in his face and he had to turn away; shielding his face with his hand. But he managed a sideways glance at her and nodded in acknowledgment.

She then started making towards the stairway, her gun and torch held before her ready for whatever lay ahead.

"Are you ok?" he heard a voice next to him and he opened his eyes.

He turned to find a pair of blue eyes staring at him from under a thick head of bright blonde hair. It took him time to realize to whom they belong and that he was back in the present again.

"Well, as ok as you can be given everything" the guy continued turning towards the window next to them.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Are they still out there?" Dean asked, looking over the valet sitting next to him, towards Trevor, who was kneeling next to the window. He turned with a look of absolute calm in his face, but with his AR-15 clutched tight across his body.

"Never moved" Trevor said "actually, he hasn't moved at all. If I didn't know better I'd say it was just a statue." He continued, turning back towards the window.

He wasn't surprised by what Trevor said. He had no trouble picturing the sight. Not just from a few minutes before when he had seen him staring back after he had tripped. But from a memory that flashed across his memory of another that had stood against the backdrop of similar crooked trees. Yet it was in a different setting and from a different time. He had reacted differently that time. Then again the circumstances were also different and his frame of mind was completely different.

He had moved back against the wall, resting his head against it. The hard paneling felt soothing and cool against his body.

"What are those things?" Brian their valet asked but no one answered. Dean thought he knew but he kept it to himself.

The minute his eyes closed, his mind drifted back towards the dark stairway. To the screams and shouts that filled the air, as they made their way down slowly.

They were traveling, following the small dot of light that fell from their torches. It was slow going, as each step had to be carefully placed. It felt like an eternity had passed, before they were finally at the bottom of the stairway.

He could picture people running everywhere in panic. He could hear, in the distance, their footsteps, erratic and fast; hear the clutter of falling tables and trays. He could hear them climb over each other as they tried hopelessly to find their way out.

He doubted anyone of them knew what was going on or where they were going.

He had no doubt that they were in as much darkness as he was. But he could understand their panic. The darkness, while shielding them from reality, actually worked against them with all the sounds that surrounded them.

He could hear the reasons for their panic, the sounds.

Tracy had stopped when they reached the bottom of the floor. At first it was just to search the floor around them. But then she had turned the beam of light towards the doorway and the heavy oak doors that lay hanging wide open. He didn't want to think what could have done it. Then the light fell down on the floor ahead of them and he was certain he didn't want to know.

"We're going to be alright, right" another voice rose breaking the silence and rousing him from his thoughts.

The latest culprit was a dapperly dressed gentleman with salt and pepper hair. All the class and sophistication that was there before was all gone as his body trembled as hard as his lips.

"I mean there were event security. They must have called in help when things got bad right?" he asked and looked around him but no one responded.

Trevor looked away from the window and towards the rest of them but said nothing.

Dean opened his eyes and looked across the room at Tracy, who was also staring back at him. They didn't say anything just stared at each other. But then Dean didn't need to know what Tracy was thinking. He could guess just what it was. He could also guess her reasons for choosing not to give words to them. The last thing they wanted was to take any sense of hope away.

Dean turned towards Brian who was busily staring down at his own hands. He wondered if it was just a reflex or if he was trying to find the traces of blood that he had cleaned off his face.

Dean knew the valet was fully aware of what was out there. But he showed no signs of revealing anything. He was glad. He remembered how they had found him, crawled into a fetal position muttering to himself. Fortunately it was he and Tracy who had found him. So none of the others heard what he was saying. But now, at least he had recovered enough not to blurt out what he saw.

Dean feared what it would do to everyone there.

Brian moved on from staring at his hands to burying his head between his legs.

Dean turned away from Brian and towards Trevor. Trevor stared back at him and then turned his attention back out towards the window, and to the man dressed in the black tux, earpiece and dark shades.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"All you have to do is go out there and clear us a path with that big gun of yours" Volengyure said as the silence continued. "That's what you're paid for."

Dean remembered Volengyure from the manor. He remembered the confident looking man in the black tux and salt and paper hair, walking around the room mingling with all the guests as if he was the host of the show. There was a point when he actually believed this was the man he had come to see. But then he had caught snippets of a few conversations he had with the other guests.

He never talked to Dean or even introduced himself. He had only given Dean a cursory glance before moving on with his patrol. He didn't much like the look but then he cared little for what he had thought of.

The next time Dean met him was when he was sitting in the center of the cabin, all quiet and seemingly lost in thought. He had seemed gone. Before suddenly he had shattered the silence with his question.

That confident man was now back. At least partly. He had taken charge, or at least assumed to. But there was still a tremble in his lips and his hands were dug deep into his pockets.

"That's not what I get paid for" Trevor replied never taking his eyes away from the window.

"Whatever! You work for the Government, which means you work for us. It's our tax money that's putting a roof over your head. So why don't you go out there and do the only thing you know how to do, blow stuff up."

"Didn't realize you pay taxes, Thorne darling" said one of the elder women sitting around the preacher. She was the short, plump one. She spoke with no sign of venom or with any trace of humor in her face. But it gave rise to half smiles all across the room.

Volengyure grey eyes strayed only for few seconds upon the woman, throwing daggers at her, before returning back towards Trevor.

"It's not that simple" Trevor continued

"How hard can it be? You point that thing at them and shoot."

Dean could see a struggle behind Trevor's mask of calmness.

"We don't know how many are out there and all I have is one magazine for the rifle."

"How many can there be. There's only one out there."

"Exactly" Trevor said. "Only one out there just standing watching us. It has not made one attempt to come for us."

"So just go out there and shoot it"

"Why is it standing there? Why not come for us?"

Trevor kept out the most important question in his mind, as it was in Dean's, unexpressed.

"Maybe because it's all alone" said Thorne with a look that spoke volumes. It was Trevor's turn to glare at him.

"It could be trying to draw us out. There could be other's out there." He said turning back towards the window with a look of intense concentration.

Trevor was right.

While he could understand the reasons for Thorne's tantrum, he still didn't like the guy. Thorne's sudden outburst was probably due to his questions going unanswered, which may have been a mistake on Trevor's side. But what else was there to say. He couldn't very well comply with Thorne's request to lead them out, not even when he asked relatively nicely, or at least when he was only afraid.

The truth was to run was a risk. One, that couldn't be taken with all the others as well.

If it had been just the three of them….

They hadn't come with much in the sense of backup; a five man team piled into the other Escalade. But they were heavily armed and well trained. Yet when the alarms went off they had barely managed to breach the perimeter defenses of the mansion. Half the team was gone by the time they reached the mansion. And out of that lot, only Trevor had managed to survive in their escape.

Actually the remaining two had stayed behind to give them time to escape. So it was possible they survived but he didn't believe that.

They would have come for them if they were alive. Besides, if the other two had survived they probably wouldn't have been followed.

Memories of their run through the swamp raced back to him.

He closed his eyes trying hard to keep them out.

They came in flashes.

He remembered seeing himself running through rows of similar looking trees, uncertain where he was going. He remembered the heavy beating of his heart. The taste of salt in his mouth, and the sting in his eyes, as sweat poured down his face.

Most of all he remembered the fear that filled him inside.

He couldn't see them, but he felt their presence everywhere. As if there was one standing behind every tree waiting to pounce on him any minute.

However, the fear he felt was not because of them but because of what he had left behind. His mind drifted not to the trees that may hide his hunters but to the escalade lying safely in the manor garage.

Many of the survivors who had escaped with them had died along the way. All that was left was here with them. From the over two hundred guests and staff at the party only about ten had made it out safely; or at least was here with them. It was possible that some could have gone back the other way. Or they could be wandering through the forest, lost and scared, but otherwise safe. Though he doubted it.

He remembered the bodies that had been littering the floor all the way from the stairway to the ballroom doors; the blood that covered the marble floors. There were more in the ballroom itself. All of them killed brutally; all of them barely putting up a fight. Then there was the expression of pure terror that was etched into their faces.

He tried to keep those memories out. Somehow, even after all those years hunting he still found himself affected by the sight. Found it really disturbing.

'Guess you never really get used to something as horrific as that!'

He had thought they were gone when they broke off from the rest of the group.

He had thought he was gone several times that day. Especially when they were in the mansion; just the two of them trying to find their way out.

Dean turned towards Tracy.

She returned his gaze.

He was glad she was there. She had been calm and methodical like any good hunter. Dean knew that she was scared, he was scared. But she had kept in all this time; just like she was doing now.

"You went out for them" Thorne continued pointing his finger out towards Dean.

"That was just a few feet. You're asking to risk a run through the swamp; in the middle of the night. When we have no idea what is out there." Trevor said not taking his eyes away from the window.

He was wrong.

Memories of the corridor came back to him; of the sight of the guests lying prone on a pool of their own blood.

The light from their torches danced around the corridor. Flashing into darkened corners, along statues of white marble; now threatening to conceal some ominous presence. Pots of plants, tall and wide, standing on their own or upon tall marble pedestals; where once they gave rise to feelings of innocence and beauty, now gave rise to fear and foreboding.

Tracy had knelt down next to the bodies. But there was no doubt that they were dead. It was clear from the first glance.

Not one kill was similar to the other. And there was blood everywhere. Even on the white walls there were splotches of blood and in some places cracks. Dean had a good idea what caused them.

They had pressed on towards the ballroom. Moving slow, with each step placed carefully and as quietly as possible. Inching on, as their attention shifted between the open doors ahead and the ones behind.

They could hear gunfire flowing in through into the house through the cracked open doors. But they ignored it and pushed on. They had to make certain that the guests were ok, or at least if there were any survivors.

They entered through the wide open doors to the scene before them.

The memories, they came in flashes.

He remembered everything as if he was still there. Felt the emotions that had filled him at the sights around.

Then he remembered the sound.

Half human, half primal that had come from nowhere.

He turned just as something struck hard against him…

Memories jumped again.

To that first time he had come across them.

Of a man standing in the distance, at the edge of a swamp, just watching him. At least he had thought then that it was a man. He was dressed in a white shirt, grey tie and beige pants. But he couldn't see the man's face. But even then he remembered there was something wrong with him; the way he stood there so perfectly still.

He hadn't called out to him for help; as anyone else in his situation would have. Instead he remembered picking up the Colt lying next to him and pointing it in his direction. His gut warned him that something was not right.

"Stay away he had shouted" and the person seemingly complied. It kept its distance and he never saw its face.

However, now he could. The thing that jumped him was right in his face. He had dropped his gun when he fell, and was now busy just trying to keep its face away from his.

He remembered the man. At least, thinking back now he remembered the man. He was one of the security guards that had been standing next to the main entrance, looking somber and professional. He looked nothing like that now.

The man still had the human look but he was more animalistic. Growling and snarling at him. His eyes dead and grey were open wide and stared down at him with ferocity. His mouth was open as well but his teeth were clenched tight. The drool that dripped down from his fluttering lips reeked. He fought the nausea that gripped him even as he fought the man.

He was going for his neck.

Though there was no sign of life in his body. The security guard had considerable strength.

It would seem that he was losing the fight when there was a loud gunshot and the security guard's head snapped sideways and its body was thrown off him.

Dean turned around to see Tracy standing over him, her gun pointed down towards him.

She quickly shifted stances, gave the room a quick look around and then released one had from the gun and extended it towards him.

"Come on, we need to get out of here quick."

Dean gave the security guard one last look before taking Tracy's hand and getting back on to his feet.

It wasn't the first time that she had come to his rescue.

He remembered her when she was dressed just in denim shorts and a tank top, carrying a M4A1 Carbine. She had stood over him then too, but then she was in the front seat of a black Hummer, which had somehow managed to sneak up to him. The door was open wide and her hand was extended out from it and down towards him.

He had looked up to her as she had said: "Come with me if you want to live!"


	5. Chapter 5 Part I

**Chapter 5 Part I**

The room was unlike the rest of the manor. Instead of marble walls they were dark stone bound together with mortar. There was no mould or grime on the walls; they were instead pristinely clean. There were candles on rows of short shelves, lining the sides of the room. But just like the torches along the stairway, they were not real. The flames were just light dancing inside shaped glass. The shelves were filled with dark leather bound books wrapped in cloth. Human skulls and animal skeletons lay on top next to the candles and rows of dolls.

Whatever, hope that the sight of the contents of the room may have created were dashed on close examinations. Just like the flames on the candles, all the artifacts in the room were fake even the skeletons. Each of them carried a label that read 'Made in Taiwan'.

There was an altar of sorts at the centre of the room. There was a bowl on the altar, next to more bones which again looked fake. The bowl contained traces of blood. But from what he had already seen, he figured the chances were that even that was fake.

He felt like a royal idiot. That he had become just one of the many gullible fools who had fallen for this sham Sharman.

He felt a sense of despair grip him like vines constricting him in place.

Nevertheless, the truth was that he never felt any real sense of hope when Tracy told him about Johns. Deep down, he knew that he never really believed what she said about all the things that he could do, or at least, what he was rumored to have done. He never put much stock into the stories of how people from all over the Country would travel days and spend good money just to see with their own eyes the miracles, or be part of them.

At least he shouldn't have.

He had heard and seen many similar miracles which turned out to be hoaxes. Of great doers of amazing fetes of wonder and amazement who ended up being shams. Worse still, he knew exactly how they managed to do all the things that they claim to have done. About the price that was required to have been paid.

Though, if it had been real, there was no actual question that he would have been willing to pay whatever price required. Consequences were thing of the future not of the present.

However, the problem was that, most of the time, people got excited about things that were not what they claimed to be. People were too easily fooled by light shows and fake blood.

The truth was that he was desperate. When Tracy came to tell him of the story of John or what he was claimed to be, he was drowning. He would have clung to any hope that was thrown at him and that was what this was. A false hope; but hope nonetheless.

He had wanted so bad to be proven wrong. To be laughed at by all the people he would have laughed at for being so gullible. He wanted to eat his words.

He had been lost in his own world when Tracy walked into his motel room. He had barely noticed her presence. Nor did he have any idea how long she must have been there watching him. Or what she must have seen. He didn't even hear her call out to him for a long time. Until he felt her hand on his shoulder and heard her voice again calling out to him:

"Dean, Dean"

Dean awoke from the daydream staring up to realize that he hadn't dreamt someone called him. But instead of staring at Tracy he found his eyes falling on Trevor.

He looked worried.

He didn't say anything at first but just stared at him.

"There's something you may want to see" he said but again stopped and stared at him.

Dean followed his gaze towards the window and then back towards him. He wanted to go but then something inside of him stopped him. Somewhere deep inside he had a feeling he knew what Trevor had seen.

The quick glance that Trevor threw Tracy and the look that he got from her in return, confirmed his fears. He had not seen so much anger in Tracy's face since that first time they had met. When she had met…

Trevor hesitantly stepped back and started moving back towards his post.

Unfortunately Thorne, who had been walking up and down the cabin, all that time, mumbling to himself, had picked up on their exchange. He once again perked up and turned towards them. His eyes drifted from Trevor to Dean and back to Trevor.

"Wait what's going on? What happened?" he demanded but no one answered him.

The girls all looked up, except Tracy who was again avoiding any eye contact. The young man and Brian were also trying to pretend as if nothing was going on.

"Damn it, stop playing dumb and tell me. I have a right to know." But his order went unheeded.

"We're stuck in this godforsaken place, hunted by some crazed sociopath, and you people want to keep secrets?" demanded Thorne. "We have a right to know what the hell is going on here. Now tell me!"

"Look maybe you need to calm down a little" said Brian, when no one else spoke in response. "Everybody is a little tensed right now, understandably. But shouting doesn't help anyone right now."

"A little tense! A little tense! Look buddy" Thorne said. "Why don't you stick to what you know best and not poke your nose into things a little beyond your pay grade, alright." He said with a little laugh. He looked around but no one else was joining in on his joke.

"I think we need someone with an IQ a little higher than a fourth grader speaking here. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" Thorne continued, leaning in towards Brian.

"I agree" Dean said "so how about you shut up!"

No one laughed but there were a few smiles around that Thorne unfortunately caught.

"Well the Zombie can speak. How about you use that new found language skills and tell us who the hell you are. Because, I know everyone here except you?"

"Not everyone" said Brian under his breath. Thorne didn't catch exactly what he had said but Brian still got a cold stare.

"Look, all you need to know. All anyone needs to know is that someone out there" Dean said pointing towards the window "wants to kill us for some reason and the only thing that is keeping us alive is this cabin. So either you shut up and sit back like the rest, while we try to figure out how best to get out of this situation. Or else you're welcome to try your luck out there in the swamps. So why not man up and make a choice without being such an awesome jerk." Thorne stared at Dean with an open mouth.

He didn't say anything for awhile. But in a few minutes he started to look around him. He found faces he once knew trying hard to avoid making eye contact with him.

"Why you…you can't speak to me like that. You have any idea who I am?"

"I do, but there are ladies here so I rather not say it out loud" said Dean and again there were a few smiles across the room.

"Look here you punk."

"'Punk' wow grand pa" Dean said a sly smile on his face. He caught a glance of Tracy's face which seemed a little brighter than previously.

The pity that had been there once was gone; at least there was less of it now. She had so far kept to herself avoiding any involvement, but now her attention seemed fixed solely on the two of them. In fact, everyone's attention was now on them; a fact that was not completely lost on Thorne.

However, Thorne had no comeback to Dean's comment. He tried a few times to say something only to close his mouth, his thoughts unexpressed.

"It's because of you that we are here. We followed you and that idiot" Thorne said pointing towards Trevor. "Now look where we ended up. We could have run towards the road or even to our cars and got away. But instead we end up being holed up in a dusty cabin, in the middle of a damn swamp."

"Well as a person who was with those cars. I can tell you, with all honesty, I would have been more than happy if you had tried to make for them" said Brian, much to the annoyance of Thorne.

"Nobody asked you to follow us. You were welcome to have gone your own way. But as you 'chose'" said Dean, before Thorne could say to Brian whatever he was about to say, making air quotes that were lost to no one "to come with us. Well you're just going to have to live with the tragic mistake. But, as Brian said, you're welcome to try for your car."

"Look come on everyone let's not fight" said the priest stepping in between Thorne and Dean before any one of them could say anything more.

"I know all this is hard on everyone, and I know it's easy to throw blame around. I am not going to start preaching about how all this is GOD's plan and all. But what has happened has happened and if we want to get through this we're going to have to somehow learn to work together. " He continued and both Dean and Thorne stepped back.

Both of them returned to their own respective corners in silence.

"I know all this is scary. Even I am scared out of my wits as well. But screaming at each other and bickering between us is not going to solve anything. While I truly believe that help is on its way. Or that GOD would save us. I also know we still need to be prepared for the possibility that we're on our own on this. So, whether we like it or not, we need to start putting our feelings for each other and about our own selves aside and start working together."

He finished and there were collective looks of shame all around.

However, within a few seconds after his speech there was the sound of crashing glass that shattered the momentary silence created after his speech. Before anyone could see what caused the sound or where it came from, the priest was flying through the air.

All eyes turned as one to where the priest had stood before and then towards the newly broken window.

However, by the time anyone could reach the window the air was once again filled with the sounds of the priest's screams.


	6. Chapter 5 Part 2

**Chapter 5 Part II**

The room was silent again as most of the faces were shaped into masks of pure horror.

Everything had happened so suddenly that there was hardly any time for anyone to truly grasp what had just happened. But the screams of the dying priest still echoed in their minds.

Trevor and Tracy were the only ones that had rushed to the window. Dean had wanted to but then images conjured from fear of what waited beyond those walls prevented him from moving.

He could hear the sounds of the priest's death. It was slight but his mind had lashed on to the sounds and it echoed inside like thunder.

He tried closing his eyes but then images of Sam and the priest filled his head and he opened them immediately.

Tracy didn't look ones towards him as she walked back to the middle of the room. She went towards the young waitress who looked ready to break and sat next to her. She wrapped her arms around the young girl and pulled her close. They looked almost like sisters in each other's arms.

Silence once again reined within the cabin.

Even Thorne seemed honestly affected by the death of the priest as he took a seat as far away from the window as he could.

The silence that filled the cabin was inescapable.

The fear was palpable.

But while the feelings lingered the silence was suddenly broken by the terrified screams of the young man in the tux. He had sat silently in his corner, curled up into a ball, rocking.

It came at first as whimpers that grew into murmurs. But soon the terrified screams filled the space between them.

"We're all going to die" he said echoing the sentiment they all felt at that moment. "We're all going to die."

"We're not safe in here" he continued, his hands on either sides of his head. Rocking back and forth.

Dean could see the effects of his words on everyone around. He watched as all faces turned towards him and expressions darkening as he spoke.

"They're going to pick us out one by one and then kill us horribly."

Dean wished he could hate the kid but he understood him. Seeing the priest dragged out of what everyone had once thought was a safe haven was enough to break the toughest soul. Even he had trouble keeping from screaming.

Dean made use of the distraction the kid has created; as eyes either shifted towards him or the ground beneath them. He crept towards Trevor, trying his best to avoid looking out the window.

"We need to get out of here" Dean whispered to Trevor. But Trevor just stared back in silence.

"There's a rear door, we could sneak out?" Trevor replied after a while.

"It's possible, provided they are not surrounding the place."

Trevor looked out of the window.

"We would need a diversion, something big enough to bring them all to one point."

"How much time would you need?"

"I don't know, long enough to get everyone out and give us a head start."

Dean and Trevor both turned towards the group in the cabin and then looked away.

"We need to at least try." Trevor nodded in agreement but neither of them said anything else.

"How many rounds do you have left?"

"One clip in the riffle, but I got a few clips for my side arm" he replied. "But I don't know how effective it is on them" he continued nodding towards the window.

Dean got up.

"Where are you going?"

"To check the rear. See if I can spot anything" he said.

"Take this" Trevor said pulling out his side arm and handing it to Dean.

Dean paused only for a second before taking the Glock 17.

"Where are you going?" Thorne demanded as he walked passed him.

Dean wanted desperately to tell him to go to hell or make some sarcastic remark. But then he realized everybody else was also watching him.

"I'm going to check the rear of the cabin, to see if we can't get out that way."

"Oh yeah! What's going to stop you from running off and leaving us here alone to fend for ourselves with that thing?" Thorne said pointing towards Trevor. Dean paused just staring at him, tightening his grip on the handle of the gun.

"I'll be back" he said and started to walk away. Then he suddenly stopped and turned back towards Thorne.

"You're welcome to come with me if you like."

"You have another gun?"

"Just this" he said raising the pistol. To that Thorne didn't say anything more. He looked away and Dean took it as his cue to leave.

He hadn't gone far when he felt someone with him. He turned to find Brian behind him.

"I'll come with you just in case" he said and Dean nodded.

The corridor was short but ran straight through the breadth of the cabin. With several doors that led to a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. The rooms themselves were empty except for furnishings and utensils in the kitchen. It was clear that the cabin was not abandoned; at least not all the time.

Brian picked one of the thicker pans.

"You know just in case" Brian said with a shrug as Dean turned to stare at him weighing it. Dean smiled but said nothing more.

The two of them walked towards the door.

There were windows on either side, with caution, Dean looked out through one of them. The view was no different from that outside the ones in the front, except, there was nothing standing outside.

Dean moved away from the window.

With the gun held out in front Dean reached for the doorknob.

Slowly he twisted the handle and started opening the door.

Fortunately it made no sounds and opened without any trouble.

Brian stood behind him with the pan raised over his head, as Dean pulled the door all the way. He then peaked outside, before inching towards the threshold.

He took one step out and then another before he was fully outside. Then he turned swinging the gun to either side.

He quickly turned back to Brian and signed to him to wait as he took more steps away from the door. His eyes moving from side to side.

Dean moved towards the trees that lay beyond. Scanning the space in between them for any signs of movement.

Sometimes he thought he saw something, a glimpse in the corner of his eyes or a movement that passed like a flash.

However, he saw nothing to show that anything was out there. Not even of any local wildlife.

With some satisfaction he turned and started making back towards the cabin. Running, with his back turned towards the trees. He rushed through the doorway and closed it behind him.

"Well?"

"It looks clear"

"Ok" Brian said with a look of uncertainty in his face.

"So what's the plan?"

"Well I create a diversion so that you guys can make a run."

"Wait what?" said Brian. "No that's just stupid. What if there are things out there. We may need you."

"You need a distraction more than you need me."

"That's not true and you know it" shouted Brian before he realized it and then stopped. "Look Dean, you and I both know that what is out there is not some crazed group of psychopaths out for human blood. Those things, they are not…they are not…human. And they are going to kill us without any remorse or hesitation. And if you haven't noticed we don't really have a room full of survivalist back there. I mean, some of them probably have someone to tie their shoelaces" he continued and Dean smiled at the obvious jab.

"We need someone who knows what they're doing to help everyone get out of this alive."

"And you think that's me?"

"Don't ask me how I know, but from all of them there you're the most experienced to handle this situation. Am I right?"

"There's Tracy and Trevor"

"But they're not you. And you know it. If you were me, you'd pick yourself to lead us out of here." Brian said but Dean didn't immediately respond back.

"And what about the diversion? We still need one to get out of here."

"Why not just sneak out?"

"You remember what happened to the priest?" Dean asked and Brian looked away. "You honestly think that was a coincidence or bad luck?" again Brian didn't respond.

"Whatever those things are they know where we are. They probably already know that we have checked out the back way and probably already making plans to cut us off. We need to give them something to give everyone time to get out. We need something that can keep their attention long enough to allow everyone to get a good lead. As you yourself pointed out, they're not exactly the kind of people who would be able to do a sprint through long stretch of swamp land knowing they're being stalked by something out to kill them."

Brian didn't respond he just looked at Dean.

"I'll do it" he said after awhile. And Dean looked at him, but he looked away.

"You want to go out there and be bait while the rest of us escape?"

"No…No of course not. I mean I don't…you know relish the prospect of seeing those things up close and personal again…but…you know…its better than the alternative. Look I'm nobody. Just a valet. Ok. I'm not going to be any use helping those people get to safety. In fact, it's more likely I'll be one of the people you guys will have to basically carry with you. All my life I been nothing, and you know what, I don't want to live or die being nothing. So yeah…maybe I do want to do this…in fact you owe it to me to let me do this. Otherwise…otherwise I'll become a shell of despair and broodiness" he finished and Dean couldn't help but smile.

"Well I rather you become a shell of a man than a dead one."

"Well I don't"

"Look I respect what you're trying to do, and I think you're a great guy. But you got to understand just what is expected. We can't settle for a few second distraction. We need something more sizable. We need the time to get everyone out of the cabin, into the trees and a good distance away before those things start on the hunt."

"I…I know. I can do that?"

"Can you?" Dean asked with a smile on his face.

"Yes…yes I think…I mean, yes I know" he said pulling himself up to look taller. But Dean could see his hands shake.

"Look…"

"No, you look. I know I can do it. I may not look much but I can put up a good fight if need be. I know I can hold them off."

"Look I get it, but you don't have to die to prove yourself. Not to me, not to those who care about you. Who are waiting for you to come home safely."

"There's no one out there for me." He said looking down at the ground, and Dean could just kick himself for what he said. He had hoped a different reaction.

"Look…"

"No Dean I can do this. You need to trust me please!"

"I trust you, it's not that I don't. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"I know I can get all of their attention and hold them off longer…maybe even to stop them from hunting you" said Dean.

Suddenly his mind drifted; memories of the room flashed back to him. Not of the fake skeletons and candles but of something more real. Images of an altar, at the heart of the room, with a bowl of human blood on it and his picture at its side.

"I don't understand?"

"Those things out there, everything that happened today." Dean said and then paused. He looked away for awhile. "It's all for me!"

"Wait what are you saying?"

"That you're just, all of you, are just collateral…Johns wants me!"

"Wait Johns our host?" Brian demanded, again a little louder than he had wanted, then again he stopped. Dean just nodded his head. "But why?"

"I don't know. That is why I can't let you go out there, why I'm the right person to do this" Dean said as he walked past Brian.

He patted Brian on the shoulder as he passed him by.

Brian stood in place frozen; the pan still in his hand.

He looked down at it. Twisted it as if contemplating something about it. Then he bowed his head.

"I'm sorry Dean" he said as he spun around, swinging the pan as he did, aiming it at Dean's head.

Thorne, watched from a corner of the kitchen as Brian hit Dean in the back of his head. Watched as he fell down on the ground with a heavy thud. He almost screamed but before any sound could come out he cupped his mouth. Still watching as something more terrifying and weird happened next.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Trevor turned to see Dean walk back into the room. Trevor couldn't shake the fact that there was something about him that seemed odd. He had gotten rid of his coat and bow tie, but then that wasn't that surprising. Maybe it was the fact that Dean was no longer carrying his gun, instead, for some reason, in his hand was a pan.

"You need to get them out of here now" Dean said to him.

He had walked straight towards him.

All that time, Trevor just looked at him with an expression of confusion.

"I'll create a distraction"

"But my orders…"started Trevor

"Screw your orders" Dean said taking Trevor back a step. "You get these people out of here now." Trevor hesitated and turned towards Tracy. She just nodded her head.

At that, he got up and started walking towards the main group.

Tracy left Claire, the young waitress, and made towards Dean.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting everyone out"

"And you?"

"I'll follow, once I know everyone is safe and faraway"

She looked at him for a few seconds before nodding her head. She then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

"Good luck" she said "and thanks for doing this." She then walked back to Claire.

Dean watched as she helped the young girl on to her feet and then led her to join the others. Dean couldn't help but notice the way the girl was looking at her. She had the same expression on her face as Trevor.

He watched as everyone was taken into the corridor.

Then he took a deep breath and stepped out of the door.

Dean's head felt like someone was playing the bongos in there. As if he had just woken up after a night out.

The only problem was he could feel a bump on the back of the head that shouldn't have been there. He felt it a few more times as he got back on to his feet.

It didn't take long for him to realize what had happened. Before, even, the memories of what had happened came flooding back to him. He panicked when he remembered what Brian had done; and again, when he remembered about the others.

He was about to get back to them when he found himself looking at a confused Trevor.

The two men stared at each other for a couple of minutes, with Trevor opening his mouth several times to say something but somehow not finding the words to say it.

Their moment was interrupted thankfully by Tracy.

"We don't have the time, we need to move" she said and this time it was Dean's turn to mimic a goldfish.

"Everything is being taken care of. We need to go" she said. Dean was about to protest when Tracy shoved him towards the rear door. "We don't have the time for this."

"My gun" Dean started but then he noticed it lying where he had dropped it. He looked at it confused before picking it up.

He followed the others out the door. Before walking out he took one last look back. And then a thought hit him:

'Were they missing someone?'

Brian didn't understand why Dean believed that the creatures outside were after him. But then, Dean believed in it enough to risk everyone's life on it. But then Dean never struck him as the suicidal type.

He stepped out of the door and into the open air. There was a lump in his throat as his feet touched the moist ground.

'Well unlike himself, that is.'

'What was he doing?'

'What was he trying to prove?'

It was still dark outside but he wished there wasn't a full moon. He would rather have not seen what was waiting for him.

The things looked human, well at least the one that waited for him looked, physically at least, human. But he had seen exactly what those things could do.

He felt his heart beat hard against his chest.

Felt sweat pouring down his face though the air was quite cold.

However, he kept walking towards the one that had been standing outside all this time waiting. He was one of the security guards at the ball. He was also the one he had seen mercilessly murdering one of the valets who worked with him. His colleague's dry blood still covered the man's white shirt and mouth. He tried not to think of what he had seen from his hiding place. But it was hard with the one responsible standing right there before him.

There was nothing in his expression to tell Brian what waited him.

He could hear a deep throaty rumble echoing from the thing, which suddenly stopped when he got close enough.

The thing then tilted its head.

Its eyes were white and its face expressionless. So he had no idea what the thing was thinking. Somehow though he knew, to some extent, it was confused.

His heart nearly leaped when he saw more of them walking in from behind the trees; behind the other. The closer they got the more he noticed the many oddities he had not seen before. Some actually had bullet wounds and gashes that would have stopped a normal human. What blood that covered them were dried and he had a feeling they didn't belong to them. He felt his heart leap into his throat, as the gravity of the situation dawned on him.

'At least, the first part of Dean's plan worked.'

Every one of those things, which could possibly go after the other survivors, converged on him. At least he hoped this was all.

'It wasn't like he had an actual count to work with.'

Well of cause, he also realized just what that meant for him. He tightened his grip on the handle of the pan, until he realized how useless it was and he loosened his grip.

He closed his eyes and continued walking.

However, when he got close to them, none of them made any moves for him. Instead they just watched him. They parted when he got close enough. And he continued walking past.

He felt a sense of hope.

Until something happened and the creatures all averted their eyes into some distant spot. It was as if they had all heard something that was beyond his hearing. The next thing he knew they all turned their attention back on him. The throaty rumble came back.

Somehow he was doing it.

He was fending off the creatures with the frying pan.

They attacked him with their hands outstretched as if trying to strangle him. So he was glad for the long handle of the pan; that he was able to get a good swing without letting them close enough to reach his throat.

However, they keep coming back.

He wasn't even really sending them on to the ground. More like, he was driving them back.

His shoulder was starting to hurt and so were his wrists.

Exhaustion was slowly creeping up on him. Sooner or later, he knew that, either the pan will give away or he will.

Maybe it was cowardice of him. But he figured the others probably had a good fair distance by now. So he started to make towards the trees.

Beating a line through the seemingly never ending rows of the creatures.

At least they were only coming at him one at a time.

They also so far were only attacking him from the front; so he could back his way towards the tree line.

He figured once he got there he could possibly try to outrun them. Since, they hadn't shown any signs of real pace or urgency in their action.

Then, all of a sudden they stopped.

He watched in confusion as they stood again at a distance from him just staring at him emptily.

Once again they looked away with that earlier expression, before going all numb.

He turned around from side to side to make certain. But he wasn't mistaken.

None of them were doing anything.

Some were actually staring point blankly at him, including the head security guard. But others had cocked their heads and were staring at him at an angle. A very few seemed bored and were looking all around them.

That was when he realized that those who were looking in his direction weren't actually staring at him.

His eyes open wide as the realization dawned on him.

He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the pan.

Then he swung around with the pan, but it never reached its target. Powerful hands gripped his wrist in mid flight.

He fought the hand that gripped him, but unlike the others there was sheer power in this one. The thing was tall and lean but also strong. Also, its eyes were also not blank and white, and its face was not empty; there was an expression of pure hatred and anger masking it.

Surprisingly that was not what drew his attention, what caught his attention was the other oddity:

'The creature was sporting mutton chops!'

They had managed to put a sizable distance between them and the cabin. Considering that they were dragging along a half-a-dozen scared folks who were completely out of their element in the swamps it was quite the fete. Then there was the swamp itself. Not only did they have to worry about navigating its monotonic scenery they had to worry about the wildlife; especially the reptilian kind.

However, for all the things he had to worry about at that moment, the thing that his mind was focused more on was Brian. From the expression on Trevor and the others he had a feeling that Brian was far from human.

'But if that was true why was he doing this?'

Suddenly he was distracted by a very unnerving sound. That once again rose to shatter the silence of the night

He heard a scream in the distance.

He recognized the scream…it was his own!


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dean still couldn't quite get over the sound of hearing his own voice screaming.

The scream was a mix of fear as well as pain, just like what he heard in the mansion. Only this one sounded like him. It almost felt like he was standing outside his own body watching it being ripped apart.

Then, when he had turned back towards the rest; all of whom had stopped at the sound. He found that none of them could turn their gaze towards him. Their eyes were turned towards the ground or the swamp around.

Worse was Tracy's. While the others looked away from awkwardness, with Tracy it looked like guilt.

'But why?'

Dean wanted to ask her but he then realized that if Brian was dead, or worse, then it means that those things would be coming after them now.

"We need to keep moving" he finally said to Trevor, who looked up long enough to nod his head. Then he once again took the lead.

They again returned, without a word, to their positions.

The young girl had moved from the arms of Tracy to those of the older of the two gals; to give her freedom to wield her gun.

Tracy was second to last, just ahead of him. But he felt like she was miles apart. She never once turned back to look at him. Not even when she had found him in the cabin.

Dean wondered if maybe, if they survived this, the two of them should have a chat.

However, for now, at least, he would worry about actually making out first.

They weren't running any more. It didn't feel safe to try. Though the swamp wasn't exactly an obstacle course and the full moon provided sufficient light to see their way. They didn't want to risk anyone losing their way; though it wasn't a maze either.

Trevor kept to a neat straight line as he led them. The muzzle of his riffle following his sight, as it swung from side to side.

Dean's eyes shifted from side to side as well. But his gun remained close to his chest. Though, he kept an eye on the trees around him. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that he was looking for. He had hoped they had left those things behind, at least for now.

'So was it the wildlife?'

'The infamous 'gators of the bayou?' he wondered to himself.

'Or was there anything more out there?' he thought as his mind drifted back to the poor unfortunate priest.

'What could have done that?'

He turned his gaze towards the giant crooked trees around him. To their sturdy barks and wide branches. They hardly seemed the culprits. Then he shifted to the grounds around them. Again he found nothing that could explain the attack.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost ran into Tracy. Not realizing that the entire line had taken a sudden stop. He stopped just inches away from her.

Tracy didn't turn back towards him.

He looked down the line towards the front to Trevor. Who was standing still and turning around him. Dean followed his gaze.

At first he saw nothing that could have spooked Trevor. All he could see was trees scattered around them. Maybe their dark silhouette in the night, with the fear that was already in their minds, was creating non-existent horrors in Trevor's mind. Several times he thought to himself that he had seen something out there. Only to realize soon enough what he really saw was nothing remotely supernatural.

He was about to tell Trevor to keep going when he thought he saw something. It was a flash of movement behind one of the trees, or what he thought was movement. His mind wasn't sure what he saw wasn't just the rustling leaves but then something inside of him nagged him.

He had seen it before; when they were running through the swamp before. He had dismissed it then; putting it down to his imagination playing tricks on him. He would have done it again if it wasn't for the fact that Trevor may have seen it too this time.

He searched the area around trying to catch a glimpse of it. Or at least trying to remember where it was that he had seen it before. But it felt like a feint recollection now.

Dean raised his gun and traced a line around.

It was there again.

Again he didn't actually see it. But again it was something somewhere in his mind telling him that he did. It was a weird feeling. Still, experience told him it was not one he should just ignore.

Their small group backed itself into a tight circle, with him, Trevor and Tracy forming an outer ring.

Except for a few whimpers, there was silence.

Then it happened.

Without warning one of them broke under the constant state of fear.

"We're going to die, we're all going to die" the young man shouted.

However, before anyone could turn around and comfort him or even tell him to shut up. He broke rank and ran for the trees.

Dean turned towards Trevor and shouted: "Go"

Then he too broke rank and ran.

Dean didn't look back to see what happened to Trevor and the group, whether they followed his command. Instead he concentrated on catching up with the fool and getting him back into the group.

"This was stupid. Really, really stupid of you, Dean. This is stupider than usual. A whole different level of stupid" he told himself as he ran.

Unfortunately, the young man seemed to have managed to get a lead on him. He was running as fast as he could. At first Dean was amazed at the pace he was maintaining, as he dodged the trees. But then that amazement was replaced with annoyance. Getting that idiot was going to take more effort than he had initially considered.

"Come back you idiot" he shouted out. But the young man just kept running.

"Stop now before you get us both killed" he shouted again but again he barely slowed down nor gave any indication he heard Dean.

Suddenly a word from his past echoed in his head: 'Idjut'.

It almost disrupted his run, but he managed to get his head straight.

He was about to open his mouth and try to get the moron to stop when the young man suddenly stopped.

Trevor listened to Dean and started to lead the survivors the way they had been traveling. Even at the protest of Tracy.

He understood her reasons; Dean was their priority. But he couldn't just abandon the rest or risk their survival to go running after Dean or wait for him. Besides Dean was a survivor.

'He'll catch up to us soon' he thought to himself.

He pushed further, keeping an eye out for any signs of whatever he saw before. Thankfully he saw nothing more. It was strange. It looked human but also not. Though, he was not sure if he had even seen anything. At this point he wasn't sure what he saw or believed any more.

One thing he was certain, whatever was out there was not one of the things back at the manor or the cabin. This thing was larger and faster. The things back at the cabin, and the manor, moved with a sense of lethargy. Even when they ran, there was a sense of disinterest in where they were going. As if they were compelled to go.

Nevertheless, he had seen what those things can do. Saw what they could. If they were compelled to do all that, he feared to think what, or who, that compulsion was. The sheer brutality and animalistic aggression with which they tore into the guests was frightening to say the least.

He fought the images that tried to sneak into his mind. The memories that waited for him in the shadowy corners of his mind.

"Trevor" he heard Tracy call out to him and he shook himself back. He chided himself silently for the lapse in concentration.

"Trevor" she said again and he turned towards her. She was staring at him intently. Silently for a few seconds as if she was trying to read his mind.

He looked away, as if he was trying to see where they were going. But she continued to walk besides him, keeping pace with him.

She unnerved him.

'What she did…what she let them do.'

Most of all she unnerved him because he once had feelings for her and he couldn't forget those feelings even though he knew she was…

"Trevor" Tracy said again and he was forced to turn back towards him.

"Yeah" he fought the words to say.

"We need to go back for him!"

"Not until I'm certain the others are safe."

"They're not our priority."

"They're mine."

"You do understand you're disobeying your Central Directive."

"Like you did?" he asked and then chided himself for it. He saw the look on her face and for a second he remembered the old Tracy and was about to apologize when her expression changed again.

"You know as well as anyone he would have gone off on his own if we hadn't brought him here."

"He wouldn't have wanted us to bring him here if you didn't tell him about Johns."

"I had to. There was no other way to make him come peacefully. Besides he is useless to Central Command in the state he was in. He was too distracted. Damaged. We had a chance to resolve that before we took him back."

She sounded nothing like the Tracy he fell for; which helped. But not enough.

He didn't respond to her but continued to walk.

"Well if all these people die, he's going to blame himself for it. And if they die because we went after him, he would blame himself even more. He would be useless to Central Command then as well." He said trying hard to be cold and distant. But he avoided looking at her.

She went silent again.

He risked a look towards her, and he found his nerve shaking again. She looked even more beautiful in that dress and bathed in the silver rays of the moon.

He didn't think it was possible.

She turned back and he quickly shifted his attention back towards the path ahead.

'How much further was it?'

Dean was at first taken back by the suddenness of the stop. But then he slowed down himself and came to a stop.

"Thank you" Dean said, more to himself than the young man.

He watched as the young man started to look around him. As if he was trying to find his way.

"Oh no you don't. Don't you dare try that again" Dean said pointing with his free hand. But again it was more to himself than to the young man.

He was still trying to catch his breath.

The young man turned to him and his eyes were open wide, and his mouth hung open as if he was about to say something. But no words came out.

He looked around him again.

"Where am I? Where are the others?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter now. Just come on over and we'll just go back and…" Dean started and then stopped.

True, that the place was no maze. There were no turns to confuse. But the place also looked alike no matter where it was you were standing. While he remembered where he had come from; which was not hard considering that he had basically run a straight line. However, he couldn't remember how far he had run.

Dean looked back the way he had come. Searching the trees behind, trying to find something that might jog his memory. But as he feared everything looked the same.

"Damn it" he whispered to himself.

Dean closed his eyes and held his gun against his head.

There was nothing for him to do but start walking and hope he find his way back.

As he was about to turn and call for the kid he heard him scream. When he turned to where he last saw him there was no one there.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Dean couldn't believe it.

He turned around trying to figure out what had happened.

However, he couldn't see any sign of the young man.

He's eyes automatically fell towards the bayou lying several hundred or so feet away from him. For a second he wondered but then dismissed the thought. He had heard stories about crocodiles; about how fast they could be on land. But then he doubted that they could be that fast. He hadn't taken his eyes away from the young man for long.

Then again it was alligators which were in the swamps and not crocodiles.

'But did that really make much of a difference?'

Memories flashed back towards the incident that had started all this. That had triggered the kid's mad dash to whatever fate that awaited him now. He shuddered to think about it or that he wouldn't be able to stop it. But the fact was that whatever had been there at that time had moved just as fast. So maybe it was possible that the two were one and the same.

'However, if that was true, then did that mean the thing had stalked them?'

'Had been there all that time watching them from the trees waiting for an opportunity?'

The thought scared him.

Not only because of the prospect that whatever that thing was, was not only fast; faster at least than the ones at the manor. But also because it meant that, at least to some extent, it was also smart. It was not just attacking them, hunting them, it was stalking them; something which the others had not shown any signs of being capable of.

'Standing outside didn't count.'

Somehow he knew it was not preplanning. It was just them waiting…for something. He didn't know what it was but, he was sure that Trevor was wrong. They weren't setting a trap. It wasn't like what this thing had done.

It didn't take him long or much searching to find the trail; it lay out before him clear as day. It didn't seem whatever was taking him was doing much to conceal its path. But still, Dean moved slowly; he didn't want to take the risk of losing his path and getting lost.

It never dawned on him to question what it was that he was chasing through the swamp; what had actually nabbed the kid. He had little doubt the kid was playing tricks on him. It wasn't that he seemed the type; it just didn't seem that he was in any condition to. Then again there were the tracks left behind; as whatever had nabbed the kid dragged him along.

That was another thing he knew about the thing. It was fast, and it was strong. Fast enough to grab the kid before he had the chance to notice and strong enough to drag the heavy built young man as if he was an empty sack.

Then the trail ended and Dean reached the kid, and he fell to his knees at the sight that greeted him.

He didn't have to check, didn't have to go up, to know that the kid was dead. Not just lying there. He didn't bother looking around or wondering why he had been left there like that. What mattered was the state in which he found him.

His face was battered beyond recognition. Instead of blue it was red, and with good reason. There was blood everywhere, including on the trees around. He didn't even have to look to see them. In the bright moonlight the red sprayed all around was clear against the dark green.

The killing was brutal as it was savage. Just like all the others he had seen. This thing, whatever it was, acted with that same animalistic rage he had seen with the others. But with the strength to boot; everything around showed him that much. Then again he didn't really care. All he cared to know was where it was and how he could kill it.

Dean was too lost in the anger he felt inside that he didn't even realize that there was someone else there with him.

Whoever they were, they had crept up on him with soft feet.

However, being a hunter means you had more than just your senses.

Dean turned around fast, rising to his feet as he turned 180 degrees. His gun leveling to the point where he believed the intruder was.

It was providence that prevented him from blindly firing when he reached the point.

It was Tracy who had managed to creep up on him. She was standing several feet away with her gun raised towards him.

She lowered her gun when she saw him.

"Dean lower the gun" she said but Dean didn't respond.

She could see Dean's finger on the trigger; could see it tightening.

"Dean!" she called out to him again and he brought the gun towards his temple and again knelt down on to the ground.

Tracy took a step towards him and then stopped. Dean felt almost ready to break.

Then he got up and turned towards the battered body of the kid again.

"Dean, we need to go back" Dean made no moves to move away.

Tracy's eyes shifted towards the bayou before her. It would have been hard to see the dark green placid waters in the dark, if not for the sharp contrast it had with the grassy swamp. A single crooked tree grew in the distant. Its bark split in two, inches above the water, sticking out like two crooked fingers pointing heavenwards.

"Dean, come on, we need to get back to the others" she said, again throwing a glance towards the waters.

'She could have sworn she saw a ripple!'

"Dean" she said more sharply.

"Dean I know what you're thinking."

Dean got up and turned towards her again. The look in his eyes was frightening.

He didn't say anything but she could figure what was going through his mind.

"You think all this is your fault, that everyone who is dead is your fault. That the kid" she continued pointing towards the body, "he's fate is your fault."

"Isn't it?"

"No! You're just trying to pass guilt Dean; you're trying to find something else to blame on yourself so you can avoid the truth. All this is your way of avoiding the fact that you blame yourself for Sam. What you feel is not real"

She knew it was a cheap trick but she needed to shatter Dean out of whatever state he was in. They didn't have the time for him to do it on his own.

Dean didn't respond immediately. Instead he started walking, much to her annoyance, towards the bayou. Her focus shifted from Dean to the murky waters.

"So I guess I imagined that room in the manor?"

"Or Maybe I imagined what was in it?"

"The Voodoo dolls of me, the picture, the blood." He said turning back towards her, standing on the edge of the bayou.

"Dean, of course not. But that's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"All that was coincidental?"

"Yes?"

"Really?" he demanded "You honestly going to tell me that the voodoo priest just happened to have all those things of mine at the same time that he caused the deaths of hundreds of innocent people."

"I wouldn't call these people innocent, Dean. They're far from it. You have no idea how they got their fortunes. And what are they doing with a voodoo priest in the first place?"

"That's not the point!"

"No your right. And yes I do believe all this is a coincidence. You know why, because if I didn't I would have to believe that Johns happened to somehow find out when you returned; happened to have a ball planned out; happen to somehow get you to come to the ball, and then unleash his monsters on everyone on the off chance that you would get killed too."

"Do you even have any idea how many variables he would have to have contended with?"

"And why would he hold such a grudge against you that he is willing to kill so many 'innocent' people along the way too. And destroy his own reputation in the process?" she pleaded "Be rational here. What you're saying makes no sense at all. Why does he hate you so much, Dean?"

Dean didn't reply. He turned away from Tracy and towards the bayou. He stood silently staring out across the dark waters in quiet contemplation.

"I lost track of reasons people may have to hate me. It's been far too long."

"Look, maybe you're right. Maybe he does hate you enough to kill you. But if he has some way of knowing every decision you make before you make it don't you think there are much easier and more satisfying ways to kill you?"

"Dean," she continued "that kid, while his death is tragic, is dead not because of you but because he got scared and did something stupid. You tried to save him. Now you can blame yourself for not reaching him on time if you like. But don't blame yourself for his actions. It's on him and him alone."

She was now certain she saw a ripple in the water. And even more certain that it was closer to Dean than before.

Dean turned back towards her.

"Tell me again how you know the way back" Dean asked as he followed her back through the swamp.

He had hated having to leave behind the kid's body, lying like that. But Tracy was as usual right. They couldn't carry it back, or should. Considering what the sight of his current state would do to the others. But he hated himself for not even taking the time to bury him properly. But Tracy insisted they leave him as he was. Besides, they didn't actually have any way of digging a grave; unless they planned to do it with their bare hands.

"It's a gift" she said and continued on.

Dean looked around him. But he couldn't see anything that could be used as a marker or a reference. He was about to open his mouth and ask her if she was certain when they walked into a larger open area. Dean could see immediately traces of people having been there before. But then another thought rushed into his head.

He rushed to the center. Passing Tracy behind, and started looking around him.

They had definitely been there at some point but were no longer there. But that was not what worried him. What worried him were the other signs that he found.

He turned towards Tracy to say something. But she was gone.

He found her again at another part. He went up to her. But even before he reached her, he saw what attracted her attention.

'No, no, not again' Dean thought as he knelt down next to the body.

It was the old lady, the short plump one that had come to Trevor's defense, and had taken the waitress, Claire, under her wing, as they fled the cabin.

He felt her for her pulse but found none.

And then Dean saw it.

The pearl necklace that was once around her neck was gone. Its pieces were now scattered in a trail leading up to her. But signs of the pearls were still there on her neck. But more importantly there were other markings. Markings that now replaced the necklace. Burn marks from something that had wrapped around her neck, tight. That had strangled her.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds and then rose to his feet.

He was about to chide Tracy for coming after him; for not listening to him before; for leaving the others alone; for risking their lives to try and save his

However, before he could turn around towards her, he felt something. Something many years of hunting had made sensitive to instinctively.

He knew even before he saw it that there was a gun pointed at his head.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

His head felt like it was about to split open.

And through the pain and agony, flashes of memories ran through his mind.

Images of dark murky walls; of faces blurred unrecognizably; of round tables and tall stools. Images of a bar and rows of bottles. All popped into his head in-between blinding white lights that he thought was from his own vision. He remembered sounds as well. Clatter of glasses, laughter and chatter all mixed together.

He tried to distinguish what was now and what was before. He seemed to recall the memories. At least what he thought were memories. He remember sitting at the bar, pouring one drink after another into his body. He tried to remember how many. He couldn't; nor could he remember when or how he got back.

He tried to decide whether it was something that happened to him yesterday or sometime back. But for some reason his brain was refusing to cooperate with him. His thoughts felt hazy and lethargic. As if unwilling to leave the corners where they had lain peacefully.

Then he remembered why he was drinking.

Tracy's face appeared and rested there for some time making him forget everything else.

Then, as if that image had jarred his mind awake, more memories started to rush in.

He was not at the bar, or at home. He was in the swamps of Louisiana. It was the dead of the night and they were being hunted.

They, as in, there were others.

Images of faces filled his mind. And of the dead; memories of their demise followed behind. But then there were the living.

He tried to remember what happened to them.

Trevor was again back with Tracy.

They were talking. At least she was. She was trying to convince him to let her go after Dean; because that was 'her' mission. She didn't need his permission or approval, but she needed him not to protest or try to stop her. Worst, she didn't want him to report it back. He knew that. He should have. But he let her convince him that it was in the best interest of the group.

'They needed Dean' he tried to tell himself.

'Besides the group was tired; he could see that. They also needed rest' he tried to convince himself.

The truth was that he was just repeating what Tracy had told him. Trying hard to convince himself that it was logic that made him let her go without much argument, and not anything else.

This was not true.

He chided himself for again letting her do this to him.

'Was he that much of a spineless….'

His head hurt worst.

The throbbing became worse like the drum beat of a rock band.

He wanted to move his hands to his head. Maybe to hold his head in case it really was trying to split open. But then he realized that he couldn't move his hands.

Well he couldn't feel them where they should be.

Then his mind shifted to where his hands claimed to be, and he felt something else.

Then more memories flashed into his mind and his heart almost stopped.

Dean turned around to come face to face with the barrel of a Smith and Wesson Model 15.

"What are you doing?"

"You're coming with me" she said

"Are you crazy. We need to find the others"

"They're dead, Dean. Don't be stupid. Think about your brother" she replied never lowering the gun.

"How do you know?" he asked

"I don't, but it's the most rational conclusion."

"'Rational conclusion!' Did you even hear what you just said?"

"We're talking about real human beings. Not numbers. You can't just assume their dead and move on."

"Even if they're not dead, then if we go after them there is a good risk that we will be."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take"

"No you're not. What you're trying to do, or at least hoping will happen, is that you'll get killed. Sam's death is not your fault Dean."

Dean opened his mouth and his face twisted into an expression of rage, before suddenly calming himself down. He took a second and a deep breath.

"I don't care what you think my motives are. Either shoot me or let me go, because, I'm not going to change my mind."

Tracy hesitated only for a few seconds before firing her gun.

Dean thought for sure that he was a goanna that time. But the bullet missed him. He heard the bullet flying inches away from his right ear.

It was not deliberate. He knew she intended to kill him. The look in her eyes was clear. It's just that she had suddenly lost her footing.

He hadn't noticed the intrusion. He was naturally preoccupied with trying to figure out why Tracy was trying to kill him. But now a quick glance towards her told him everything he needed to know.

There was a vine wrapped around her leg and pulling her across the ground.

It must have snuck up on her and pulled her just as she shot. Thankfully that jerk and change in latitude was enough to save him.

Nevertheless, it didn't change one thing. Tracy had tried to kill him.

Dean's mind flashed back to the motel. To his room, where he had been in an almost state of brain dead. Lost in his own grievances. All hope lost, and with the knowledge of what had happened before with Sam.

Then Tracy had come in and given him hope, a trace of it. At least that was what he had thought then when she told him about Johns.

She had claimed ignorance about him, but somehow managed to give him enough to convince him that he could help. But Johns couldn't help him, well wouldn't. Instead what she brought him to was a death trap. To a man who swore some kind of grudge against him; who sought his death.

All this, whether coincidence or not, happened after he came to the ball. When he came with her. She brought him here, she convinced him. She made him want to. She planted the seed that grew into the idea that led to this night.

Dean turned towards Tracy. She had regained her composure. She had twisted her body around so that she could get an aim of the vine and was shooting at it.

She was getting all her shots on target. But every time she managed to shoot a hole in the thick vine it repaired itself. It was healing itself faster than she could shoot.

It didn't take her long to run out of bullets.

Then again she had already wasted one bullet.

As he watched a second vine erupted out of the ground and started making for Tracy. Who was now unarmed and without means to defend herself.

Then again, who's to say this is Tracy Bell. The young girl he and Sam had rescued. Who's to say anything she said was real, that she was even human. Was he to believe her story that somehow he and Sam had done a Rip Van Winkle and popped themselves back in the distant future.

Nothing he had seen showed that they were in the future. No flying cars or luminescence clothing. The world looked the same mess they left it in.

There were shape shifters, there were demons, and then there was this Johns guy who seem to have a few tricks up his sleeve as well. So who's to say anything about Tracy Bell was real.

Dean watched as she was being dragged across the grass. The skirt of her dress was riding up revealing the empty holster hidden under her dress. The bullets on the belt of the holster glistened teasingly, out of reach of her hands as the vines constricted her.

He knew what came next.

'Damn it!' he said as he started to walk towards her. He pulled out his gun and fired; unloading round after round on the vines. He was relentless in his shooting. Never stopping until one and then the other tore off and crept back into the ground.

All the while Tracy watched him with wide open eyes.

Dean didn't hear the click as the trigger pulled without any resulting response. The slider stuck halfway in its pullback.

Thankfully the vines were gone, and seemingly not about to return.

Dean lowered the empty gun. Staring blankly at where the vines had once come out from. Then he turned his attention towards Tracy.

He walked up to her and stood next to her. He then pulled out his pocket knife and showed it to her.

"I don't know what or who you are. And I better not find out that you work for Johns. Because I swear if I do, it will be very painful for you. Understood." He then stretched out his hand out to her.

They were not even yet, but they were close enough.

Tracy paused for a second before taking his hand

"Dean I…" she started

"Not another word unless it is to explain exactly what the hell is going on and why the hell you were about to shoot me" he said interrupting her.

"Dean" she started as she took his hand and suddenly her expression changed and her gaze went sideways.

"Watch out" she shouted out, but it was too late. Before Dean had the chance to turn he felt a powerful blow against the back of his head. He heard a loud 'clank' as if he was hit by a frying pan, and then everything went dark.


	11. Chapter 10 Part 1

**Chapter 10 Part I**

Dean's head was hurting as if he suddenly woke up with a hangover. But then he was certain he was not out drinking last night. Even through the pain, flashes of memories of the night still filled him. They were hazy but he still remembered.

What he couldn't remember, or tell, was what had attacked him from behind.

Dean tried to reach for his head. He thought he could feel a bump, like in the cartoons; it felt quite big.

He tried to get on to his feet but his feet felt wobbly so he again dropped down on to the ground.

His vision was also blurry.

He saw and recognized all the trees around and the grassy floor. But not the other figures that were there.

It took awhile for his sight to return properly and the faces become clearer.

There was the other old lady to one side of him, with the waitress tied further down and Tracy to the other. Sight of her brought back images of his last clear memory and he felt a flash of anger fill him. Until he remembered that it wasn't Tracy who attacked him. He was actually trying to save her life when someone struck him.

Somewhere in his mind he remembered something. At least a feeling that something was missing filled him; as if he missed something. None of the two one either side of him was tied but that same feeling told him that was not what was troubling.

He tried looking around him. That was when it hit him.

Two of them were missing.

He tried thinking, but he only remembered the young man and the friendly old woman being dead. That meant there was still Thorne and 'Trevor'.

He said the last name out loud for some reason. And as he said it he saw a look on Tracy's face. It wasn't anger or fear it was…sadness. She turned her face away from him.

Dean looked around him again and his eyes fell on Trevor.

He was lying on the ground in a pool of blood; just like the young man had when he found him. There were broken pieces of vine around a tree a few feet away from Trevor.

Dean tried to understand what he was seeing. But he couldn't avoid the anger and sadness that gripped him as well. Something or someone had butchered him.

'And if he found that person…'

"Must admit I was a bit careless with that one" said a voice.

Dean again searched the area around looking for its source.

That's when he saw the wall of people standing across from him. They were still and lifeless, and their dead eyes fixed on them. But then, it was neither of them that spoke. The voice came closer.

He continued down the rows of dead faces. Some scarred, some pristine, some with bullet holes and cracked skulls; with dried blood like makeup on them. But none of the faces were the source of the voice.

"I should have been more careful. But then I never believed he would be so pigheaded. Brave but still pig headed." The voice continued as his eyes fell on the face.

Instead of surprise it was anger that filled his mind at the sight of their tormentor.

Tracy saw it before it happened.

However, her mind was, for some reason, reeling from the near death experience. After her bullets had run out she thought she was dead. Then Dean had come to her rescue. She hadn't expected that. More than the sight of the vines erupting from the ground and wrapping around her neck; the sight of Dean standing over her was most unbelievable. After what she had tried to do to him she expected him to react as any normal human would do; maybe even how she would have reacted. But Dean had tried to save her.

The thought had been playing on her mind when she saw something move beyond Dean.

He had turned towards her, after having shot the vines off. Standing over her while extending his hand to help her up. She had hesitated for a second before taking it.

Then the movement had gotten closer and she saw the man behind Dean.

She was surprised to see him or confused by his presence to realize what his intentions were. Then she had seen the big frying pan in his hands and the cobwebs in her brain loosened up. She shouted a warning to Dean but it came too late.

She watched Dean fall to the ground unconscious. Then she watched as vines again erupted from the ground and dragged him away. More vines came and grabbed her again. She thought they were going to kill her, like the old woman. But instead they dragged her away too.

Dean's body and the gun were too far away from her reach. There was nothing else she could do but let things unravel and see what happens. At least she would be near Dean.

The vines only stopped when they brought her to another clearing, a few feet from the bayou. The first thing she had seen was the other old lady sitting beside a tree, and then Trevor. She felt a pain deep in her heart and a sense of guilt. But not as much as she should have; which made her feel even worse.

'It wasn't her fault' she told herself, before turning her attention to her surroundings.

Several hands picked her and Dean up and took them towards the old lady and the waitress. She noticed the girl a few feet away from the rest. She was tired to a tree with vines like Trevor must have been.

They forcefully sat her down, though she wouldn't have put up much of a fight. But they didn't tie her; which seemed strange. Or maybe it was cockiness.

The men who had carried her walked back, as if to their post a few feet away.

One of them stood out, and she picked him up easily enough. He looked alive, and his eyes and face shifted around them. Darting glances towards the waitress before catching himself in the act.

Thorne looked strangely nervous.

Then a space opened up in the wall of creatures behind him and he turned around towards it. Tracy watched, waiting, just like Thorne, for something to happen. But nothing did.

"I really should have had him searched properly" said the young waitress as she got up, discarding the vines with ease. "But then, their lack of real thought is what makes my little minions so helpful. And their hunger for violence." She continued walking over to the security guard he remembered from the cabin. She ran her hand over his face but he didn't react.

"Hello Dean Winchester," she said turning towards him. "You have no idea how long I have been waiting to meet you. How much trouble I went through to arrange this meeting."

"I'm touched" Dean said, still struggling with his headache. "But usually when people want to meet me they either call or send a message. Not slaughter hundreds of innocent lives."

She laughed. Strangely it was a sweet innocent laugh, and not a crazy one.

"Dean, you think all these are innocent people." Then the brightness in her face disappeared and a darkness shrouded it.

"You have no idea the sins they're guilty of" she said before her smile returned.

"Alright, so you got me now. Let the others go" he said.

"Well, I can't let everyone go. I can't let Trevor go, or Mike the young man you tried so hard to save, or Brian. Who I must say was an unexpected surprise. He got me good for awhile. You can't believe what went through my head when I saw you back in the kitchen. I thought I was going crazy." And again she laughed.

"Then let these people go. They got nothing to do with whatever crazy ideas you have for me or about me."

"Only ideas I have for you, Dean, is a meeting with Death."

"Well I have bad news for you…he's, well, dead!"

"Funny! But I'm still not going to let you go."

"Then kill me and let them go"

"Oh I can't do that, either. They're part of your fate, or your torment. The pain you go through every time one of them dies is…truly exhilarating." She said and then closed her eyes and tilted her face up slightly.

"But if it's any consolation I let Thorne live. But then, to be honest, I was afraid his death would not affect you enough and he did turn out to be useful to me. Who knew he had it in him to knock the great Dean Winchester out for me. It's impressive what people are capable of when they're sufficiently motivated. Don't you think so Dean?"

Dean didn't reply. The pain in the back of his head came back and so did the anger.

"Oh don't be mad Dean?" she said giving him a sad face. And then it suddenly brightened up again. "I got you a present."

"Come on out my darling" she said turning to the wall behind him.

Dean could see there was movement somewhere behind the thick wall.

"I know it's still not Christmas but I just can't wait. I hope you like it" she said with a big smile and squishing her whole body as if in eager anticipation.

Dean stared at the wall of bodies. But then there was nothing else he could do. He was unable, without any spell, to move away from the sight.

A figure walked out.

Dean's heart almost stopped.

Standing there, next to all the others, next to the waitress, was his brother Sam!


	12. Chapter 10 Part 2

**Chapter 10 Part II**

Dean's head was hurting but not from the blow. That was slowly subsiding in the presence of the other blow.

He wanted so much to believe that his eyes were deceiving him. He wanted to believe that the blow to his head, from Thorne, had knocked him out of his senses. That he was still out and dreaming all this. But there was that nagging feeling inside of him which told him all this was all too real.

He was feeling a whirlwind of emotions right then. He felt anger towards Johns for everything she had done. Joy at seeing Sam alive again. Sadness at what had become of him. And guilt for knowing all this, all that had happened to Sam, was all his fault. From that first time he had come to Sam's house all those many years ago.

He also wanted to take his mind away from the sight of his brother standing there with all the others. Still, with dead pan eyes and the gunshot wound still in his chest; at the center of a ring of dried blood.

However, he found he couldn't. He couldn't close his eyes or even tune out Johns.

"I hope you like what I did, Dean." She said walking up towards Sam. "I mean, ok, I know he's not exactly like he was before. But I think he's even better now. New and improve if you would" she said running her hand across his face and leaning right up against him. Sam didn't move or even do anything.

Then she turned towards him again: "don't you think?" she asked.

Dean wanted so bad to get at the woman and wring her neck with his bare hands but he found he couldn't even move his legs. Again, he knew it wasn't because of any spell that Johns was casting. Just that he felt his whole body had gone limp.

"I really want to thank you Dean for bringing him to me. He's so, perfect. He's the best of my little minions" she said turning back towards Sam.

"I mean I used to think that Larry here was awesome," she said turning towards the head security guard. "But Sam…Sam is…." she tried to find the words but then after a while seemed to give up.

"So much raw talent, so much anger, he's a masterpiece." She said her eyes brightening up and turning towards the sky. "I mean what he did with Brian and Trevor was so…artful" she said turning towards him as if expecting him to agree with her.

However, Dean's mind wandered elsewhere.

"Oh not him, he was not dear Sam. That was just brutal" she said with a sigh.

"Sam's not brutal…he's a craftsman. The things he can do with his hands…the things he could do" she started and turned towards him and went silent for a second staring at him.

Then it happened so quickly that Dean didn't have time to even realize what was going on. He saw something move from near him. Rushing past him and towards Johns.

Johns turned back towards Dean.

"I could just eat…" she started as she turned with a smile on her face. But that smile soon disappeared.

Tracy rushed Johns and before she had the time to react Tracy had her in a headlock and jammed something against her throat.

"You say anything we don't like" she said. "You even murmble wrong and I jam this vine through your throat and you never speak again."

There was no smile on Johns face anymore. But, even more surprisingly, none of her goons made any moves or reacted to what Tracy did.

'Guess that's the problem with having toy soldiers rather than real ones.'

"Dean," Tracy called and Dean found the strength to get up and follow her.

He found his gun still where he had placed it and he pulled it out.

"Barbra" she called out next and the lanky old woman got up from her place and hesitantly made towards them.

Dean followed Tracy as they made towards the others. But they were walking at an angle. Dean wondered until he realized that she was leading them towards Trevor. Dean began to feel sorry about Tracy but then she changed course. She was now heading towards Trevor's gun.

"You think I care about whether you kill me?" said Johns but Tracy didn't stop.

"If I die, Sam dies" she said again, but then Dean didn't respond.

It was not because he didn't understand what she said, but because he didn't want her to know just how badly what she said had struck him. He didn't want her to know that he was actually weighing the situation. Considering what was worse. Losing Sam forever, or having him as her toy. He found himself considering the latter. Wondering if just maybe he could someday find some way to free him from the curse and save him.

'If Johns could put him under her spell, then it was all too possible that someone else could release him.'

'Maybe he would be mindless but at least he would be alive…sort of.'

'Besides, worse had happened to them and he had found a way around. Found away to find their way back to normal. So maybe they could find away with this too.'

Tracy was now near the gun.

"Dean get the riffle and give me the pistol" she said.

Dean was about to go for it when Johns screamed.

"Mommy, Daddy" she said like a frightened little girl.

Tracy and Dean both turned and watched a stirring in the crowd ahead of them again.

"I warned you" Tracy said and pressed hard against Johns' neck. There was a tickle of blood coming from her neck.

"Wait" Dean said and Tracy actually stopped.

Dean pointed towards the crowd and Tracy turned away from him and in that direction.

They were both speechless at what they saw. Barbra's thin hands reached up to her mouth.

Dean immediately remembered the man in the beige trousers. At least he remembered his clothes. But now he saw his entire body…and face.

Dean was visibly horrified at the sight

The two didn't have bullet wounds or cuts and bruises. Their entire bodies were burnt beyond recognition. And it wasn't second degree burns. This was the kind of burns that killed you and killed you painfully. He was surprised that they weren't ashes by now.

"Enjoying your handiwork, Dean?" asked Johns. But there was no laughter, just tears.

"I…" he started and then stopped, "I didn't do this. I never…" he again stopped. It wasn't like he would remember even if he had seen them before.

"Oh, I know. You didn't light the match or helped prepare the pyre. I will give you that." Claire said. "But this is 'your' fault."

Dean looked at her with confusion.

"It was your words they were following. 'There's no such thing as a good witch'" she said looking at him. "You remember that. Dean."

"Do you know what the sight of seeing your parents die do to a young girl?"

"To hear their screams of pain?"

"Do you know what it's like to grow up knowing you had no one?"

To know everyone you care about being dead because you couldn't do anything?

"Cause you were too weak?"

"And all because of you?"

"Well I didn't know that at first. I had to find dear Larry here. But he was nice enough to tell me everything. With a little persuasion of course. He told me how he became a hunter because of the wonderful role model Dean Winchester had been. Told me how what a great inspiration you had been for everything he was. Told me how his entire view on the world, on witches was framed by what good ol'Dean Winchester believed."

"So I knew I just had to meet you. After all, you're the cause of all this."

"So I spent the rest of my life looking for you. Preparing to meet you. I learned everything I could about you and your brother; all the lore out there. I must say it was lucky running into that series of books. It felt like a godsend. I realized that I wouldn't even have to go looking for you. With your reputation to get killed, and your stubborn sense of duty towards your brother Sam, meant that you'd find me soon enough. All had to do was give you a reason. And I wasn't disappointed. I planned this party Dean all so you can't sneak on me; couldn't risk getting caught off hand. Besides, I didn't just want to kill you I wanted you to die knowing that so many people died because of you. Because of who you are. The life you chose led you to this moment, led to me, and to the death of everyone at the party. I wanted you to have that guilt with you."

"Everything worked out so perfectly to plan. You did everything just as I was told you would."

"And not only will you die today at my hand, but you will die at the hand of your own brother. And in your dying moment, your last thought would be that your beloved Sam would continue to live the rest of his life as my slave. Killing for me. Sam the hunter will become Sam the Hunter-killer."

"Dean, don't listen to her" Tracy said. "She's just trying to get into your head."

"Actually I was trying to buy time" Claire said and suddenly Barbra screamed.

Dean and Tracy turned to where Barbra was. They found her in the grip of something unbelievable.

The thing, while had the general physic of a human had green reptilian skin. Big round eyes and a jaw that opened wide like an Alligator.

"I'd like you to meet John Junior. My baby brother. Well, all grown up." Dean turned towards her. She was smiling. "Well I couldn't find all his parts, you know, so I had to do some mix and match." Dean felt like throwing up.

"I think we have ourselves a little situation here" Claire continued.

"I don't think so" said Tracy. "You can kill her I don't care" and Barbra looked at her, slanting her head slightly. Even Dean turned towards Tracy.

"I actually believe you" said Claire. So did Dean.

The alligator creature snapped Barbra's neck as if he was snapping a twig and then tossed her aside.

"You see, my little brother doesn't need my instructions. He's pretty good at figuring out what to do on his own."

"Before he can take another step, I'll jab this right in your throat."

"Doesn't matter. I will be dead and with my family. But Dean will have to go on living without his little brother. Since you know I'm the only one keeping him, well, sort of, alive!"

Tracy paused and turned towards Dean. Dean looked at her and then at the alligator man. He had one chance.

He aimed his gun and fired at the creature. It hit him point blank in the chest. Then it let out a scream. It was a terrifying sound.

Next thing Dean remember was hearing Claire scream.

Dean watched as the creature let out a scream and then rushed him. He had no doubt what it was about to do. He had seen its handiwork. He had also seen the look of sheer rage that was in its eyes as it looked at him.

Dean looked helplessly as the creature reached him with considerable speed. Claire screamed 'no' as it grabbed him and threw him in the air.

Dean hit hard a tree and almost lost his senses.

He didn't know what happened to Tracy. But when he regained some of his consciousness she was in the creature's hand. He wanted to say something or scream but nothing came out.

His vision was barely there, and he had little control of his body.

He saw the creature discard Tracy's body.

He heard Claire say Sam's name, and then he saw Sam making towards him.

He wanted to tell Sam to stop.

He wanted to convince him that it was him. To somehow snap him out of Claire's control. But he had no control of himself.

"Sam, no" was all he could muster, before Sam was right upon him.

Sam was almost upon him.

He was standing inches from Dean. When suddenly he keeled over and fell at Dean's feet.

Dean looked towards Sam, but his eyes were closed and he showed no signs of getting up. He wanted to reach for him. His hand struck out but he couldn't touch Sam who was just inches away.

He did see that all the other creatures had fallen too.

Dean thought he heard Claire give out some orders.

Then he heard a sound as if something heavy fell hard on to the ground.

Claire screamed again and then silence once more fell in the swamp.

The last thing that Dean remembered was seeing a man walk over towards him.

However, by then his vision was already getting blurry. He barely saw anything much except the skirts of a long coat.

Then Dean lost all consciousness and fell down next to Sam.


End file.
